Song of Storms
by TerraClearwater
Summary: A lone boy walks the streets of his city...


**Just a one-shot I got inspired to write, don't ask me how, because I don't know. I guess this is an AU universe, although what I was going for was a present-day incarnation of Link. Sorta depressing, but whatever. Enjoy.**

The boy in the muddy brown high tops stopped at the sidewalk corner, his face turned toward the ground. The air was chilly, and judging from the dark, monstrous clouds above, it was going to rain. He would need to find shelter soon.

Sure enough, a single drop of water fell from above, landing on his hand and causing his fingertips to twitch.

Lifting his head, his sapphire eyes scanned the street before him. There was no one around, but he knew better. Even if the area seems empty, there was always a rat or two hiding around…literally and figuratively…

As he looked around, he caught sight of his meager reflection in the store window beside him. Short and lanky, his faded jeans and oversized green hoodie seemed to swallow him up. His dirty blonde hair was long and pushed into his face by his green baseball cap. It didn't help that it was dirty physically as well as in name—in fact, no matter how hard he tried to stay sanitary, no matter how many public restrooms he washed up in, he could never seem to get completely clean. There was always dirt under his fingernails, a smudge on his cheek…always something to remind him of the sorry person he was.

Orphan.

Homeless.

_Pathetic_.

Shrugging, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and crossed the street briskly. Maybe if he hurried, he could find a doorway or—

There she was.

He caught his breath and turned away, trying his best not to stare. But, as always, he couldn't resist watching her out of the corner of his eyes. And who could blame him? For a boy whose life was filled with nothing but much and grime, a person like her shone out. She was a light in the dark, a diamond in the rough. A gem. A star. A princess.

_His_ princess.

She walked on the opposite sidewalk, taking quick, tiny steps in her white rain boots in her hurry to get home. She wore a petite pink trench coat, neatly buttoned up, and a matching scarf was snug around her neck. The navy blue skirt of her school uniform swayed as she held a white umbrella over herself, protecting her hair from the coming rain. Her beautiful, golden hair…the light of the gloomy day didn't do it justice. In the summer, its shine rivaled the sun's. It tumbled around her shoulders, so soft, so clean…

What he would give to touch her hair. Something clean and beautiful, it almost hurt him that it was kept away from his hands.

She suddenly glanced in his direction. Like always, she gave him a beautiful smile and a friendly wave, and hurried on.

And, like always, the little tear in the corner of his heart got s little bigger.

He sometimes daydreamed about saving her life. That she was the princess of some faraway, enchanted kingdom, and that he was her savior, her knight in shining armor that saved her from danger. He'd rescue her from a tall tower, and she'd give him her beautiful, heart-breaking smile, and kiss him, right on the lips. Her kiss would taste like sugar and honey, he liked to imagine. And they would get married and live happily ever after…

He liked to replay this daydream right before he went to sleep. Sometimes, it would even make the hunger pains go away…

But he wouldn't get any sleep tonight if he didn't hurry up and find shelter.

It began to openly sprinkle, and his pace quickened. There had to be some kind of alleyway around here…

"There he is!"

Oh, no…

"The mute kid!"

Even homeless kids had bullies…

He heard the thump of shoes slapping against the pavement, and he broke into a run. He felt sharp pains in his back—they were throwing rocks at him. This, of course, only made him run faster.

Every once in a while, they would catch up to his fleeing pace and pull at his hood, causing him to trip over himself. He'd always get back up before they could do more, though, and kept running.

After a few blocks, he finally managed to duck into a dark alleyway without them noticing.

He curled up as far against the wall as he could, trying to get as much use out of the narrow overhead as possible.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he looked around his "sanctuary". The alley was empty, except for a couple of trash cans. The dirt around him moistened and began to run from the rain. It dirtied his jeans and soaked his already-damp shoes.

At that point, he couldn't help it. He buried his face in his arms an began to cry, hot tears rolling down cold cheeks.

_Why_? Why was his life so pathetic? He had no home, no family, no friends. He would go days without eating. He had only the clothes on his back and a small knife and a lighter in his pocket that he dug up from a dumpster. He didn't even have a voice. Was it that hard, for whoever made the decisions up there, to give him a voice? Was it that _difficult_? People like him…why did they even exist?

As he wiped away his tears, he suddenly caught sight of a wet shine on the ground before him. He watched it for a moment, making sure it wasn't an illusion. Then he reached out into the rain and touched it. Something was buried there, and the erosion was uncovering it. His curiosity aroused, he dug around the object, his fingers easily breaking through the soft, moist earth. After he had unearthed it, he held it under the overhead and flicked on the one lighter he had to examine it.

It was an oval-shaped…thing. It seemed to have been made out of some kind of porcelain, and was painted a beautiful shade of blue. As he wiped the dirt off with his sweatshirt, he noticed a small symbol on it, as well: three small yellow triangles stacked upon each other into a pyramid. It had some sort of spout, or mouthpiece. He would typically dismiss this as just another drug-related tool if it weren't for the eight holes on its side…huh…

Experimentally, he wiped the dirt away from the mouthpiece and blew into it. To his surprise, a sweet, low note was created. Ah! So this was an instrument!

As he held the small flute-like object, something inside of him settled into place. He closed his eyes, and opened his ears. Softly, so soft it could have been only in his mind—perhaps it was—he heard a melody. An ancient, beautiful melody. He knew he had never heard it before, yet his ears and his heart welcomed it like an old friend that he hadn't heard from in years.

Once more, he put his mouth to it and blew, allowing his fingers to move on instinct over and across the holes. He captured the melody, and he played it…

La da da, la da da…

_In a time, long ago,_

_Falling rain that would not slow,_

_Lightning filled the sky,_

_And no one knew why…_

Soon the rain fell harder, but it seemed to be falling to the rhythm of the song.

Nothing mattered, now. Not the bullies, not his poverty, not the gnawing pain at his stomach, not even his princess. All that mattered now, was the rain…and the song.

He slowly got to his feet, disregarding the now-pouring rain. His eyes still closed, and still playing the flute, he made his way out of the alley and into the street. And there he stood, in the middle of the asphalt river, playing his song…

Then, lighting flashed! His heels kicked, and he began to spin and step to the rhythm. The song played faster, and the rain matched its pace. Faster and faster, thunder rolled and lightning flashed, winds picked up in speed and still he danced. He danced like he had been dancing all his life, and he danced like there was no tomorrow…

Then, the song slowed. Lightning no longer struck and thunder no longer rumbled. He stood still again, and the rain fell at its normal pace once more. And the boy continued to play his song, the noted echoing through the streets of his city.

**So, yeah. I don't know if those are the actual lyrics to the Song of Storms, but if not, oh well. And don't ask me how the Ocarina of Time ended up buried in an alleyway, either, because I don't even know that. I enjoyed writing this, but I don't think I'll continue it, but if anyone wants to write a continuation for themselves, they can. Just ask me first, mmkay? ^ ^ Thanks for reading!**


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